


A Visual Experience

by orphan_account



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 18:04:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7397908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soundwave has a lot of NSFW security footage and he plays in on his visor and communicates through it while interfacing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Visual Experience

It wasn’t precisely blackmail, Ratchet had been intrigued all along. Out of all the Decepticons, Soundwave’s modesty had a non-specific appeal. Ratchet was used to brushing shoulders with mechs who owned huge personalities. Even Shockwave had a striking presence when he stomped heavily into a room sashaying his bulk, but Soundwave was unlikely anyone. 

Especially aboard the Nemesis, Soundwave was an outlier. He cared for Ratchet from the side lines and appropriately ensured the medic’s needs were met. While Ratchet was sure Soundwave’s consideration was a derivative of Megatron’s orders, in such a cold, uncomfortable setting it was hard not to form an attachment one of the only form of affinity available. Ratchet regretted that he’d let himself become lonely, it made it harder to decline Soundwave’s proposition when he arrived outside Ratchet’s provisional quarters one evening.

Ratchet hadn’t expected the encounter to be a one-time fling, in fact, he hoped it wouldn’t have been. Soundwave needn’t have used the method he had to ensure continued admittance to Ratchet’s quarters and his berth for a second time. Nevertheless, Ratchet found himself viewing evidence of his actions with Soundwave. The footage pulled from a security camera in the corner of the room and the web-cam embedded in Ratchet’s computer console featured them in full colour rutting against each other with beastly fervour. To accompany the viewing came a warning, should Ratchet reject his advances, Soundwave would not force the issue, but the footage he’d recorded would be delivered directly to each personal computer belonging to Ratchet’s Autobot colleagues.

“There’ll be no need for that,” Ratchet groused. Much to Ratchet’s chagrin, he thought the threat was unnecessary and it salted his mood before they could begin. Soundwave aimed to improve on that.    

Despite being a mech of insubstantial bulk, Soundwave possessed a particular forceful strength that thrilled Ratchet. Soundwave sat on the edge of the berth and pulled Ratchet into his lap. The Decepticon felt so slight between Ratchet’s thighs that Ratchet was vaguely concerned about crushing Soundwave. He was a heavily built mech in comparison and his weight felt ever more apparent when he squashed himself against Soundwave. If Ratchet stretched, he could wrap his arms fully around Soundwave and squash the air out of the mech. But he did not.

Soundwave was tall, he tipped his helm back and Ratchet was at the ideal height to fasten his lips around Soundwave’s neck. The cables Ratchet wormed his tongue between we stretched taut, he could pluck them with his teeth and feel the energy in Soundwave vibrate back at him. But as Soundwave had no features for foreplay, they moved quickly.  

When Soundwave had first unspooled his tentacles, Ratchet had flinched away from them, but now that he’d become acquainted with their pleasures, Ratchet arched into the feathery touch of tendrils stroking between his shoulders, injecting his body with a static current that made Ratchet itch. He squirmed against Soundwave as the tentacles stroked up and down his back and teased between Ratchet’s seams. It made Ratchet impatient and he rocked his body over Soundwave’s thighs as he huffed noisily to fill the heavy silence in the room.

Soundwave moved fluidly, he rolled his hips against Ratchet’s movements so that their interface panels squeezed hard together. Because of his eagerness, Ratchet’s body was the first to give in. The warmth and wetness of his interface breathed a mist over Soundwave’s thighs. Soundwave felt it and immediately jerked his legs apart and Ratchet lurched in his lap. The suddenness of it had Ratchet clinging to Soundwave’s chest, the aged joins in his groin burning. Even while he was stinging, Ratchet pushed his aft out and slumped against Soundwave, who’s spindly arms trembled a little as they dug into the berth.

Soundwave reclined a little and Ratchet’s face nuzzled the crock of his neck. Ratchet whimpered as he felt the slickness running down his thighs intercepted by the worming approach of Soundwave’s tendrils walking up his legs. It was just one tentacle, Ratchet could feel its thick and heavy presence buzzing and it made him shudder. The tentacle split at the end; a dozen thin feelers brushed Ratchet’s pump valve and their contact sourced a wave of tingling impulses that dashed all over Ratchet’s body.

The caressing strokes of the tendrils changed direction. They focused less on the outside of Ratchet’s valve and concentrated their firm attention between the rubbery lips. It was a surreal experience. Ratchet felt as though something was crawling inside his body. One by one the feelers squeezed inside his wet entrance and massaged the strength to pinch closed out of Ratchet’s callipers.

Ratchet breathed a heavy sigh to Primus as his valve twitched against the thinner feelers prodding at his insides.

“You know,” Ratchet gasped, his vents stuttered as he gulped. “I’m not usually the loud one. I’m not used to such q-quiet partners.”

A second tentacle looped around Ratchet’s throat and snapped his head back. As Ratchet was left reeling from the sudden whiplash, below, the tentacle at his valve forced entry. Ratchet was supple, but not well stretched, it burned when the tentacle pressed into him and kept going and going, bunching up inside his body until the end was flush with his ceiling node. Ratchet cheeks turned hot, the tentacle around his neck coiled tighter and held him steady as he continued to twitch.

The ends of the second tentacle teased Ratchet’s chin. Ratchet gazed directly into Soundwave’s visor as Soundwave toyed with his mouth. His feelers picked at Ratchet’s lips, lifting Ratchet’s lips open, bending them apart until Ratchet sighed deep and open-mouthed and Soundwave slipped inside. Drugged by arousal, Ratchet fell almost limp in Soundwave’s clutches. His eyes rolled to the top of his head as his head lolled back. He suckled dreamily on Soundwave’s tentacle as it was fed into his mouth. It was nearly serene. The tentacle jammed into Ratchet’s aft paused and allowed Ratchet to savour the lull until the tentacle in Ratchet’s mouth roamed too deeply, brushed Ratchet’s intake and Ratchet’s body lurched into spasm. His valve squeezed down on the tentacle tickling his ceiling node and Soundwave revved approvingly.

He withdrew his feelers to the tip of Ratchet’s tongue.

“Would it please you, if I spoke to you like this _**Old Friend**_.”

The seldom heard metallic crunch of Soundwave’s voice warped into the deep tenor belonging to Optimus Prime. Ratchet’s eyes flashed and he inhaled sharply through his nose. While his hips continued to squirm minutely, Ratchet’s fingertips gripped the tentacle coiled around his throat.

Soundwave felt giving and allowed Ratchet some slack, the tentacle in Ratchet’s mouth withdrew completely, the feelers stretched out and grazed Ratchet’s teeth as it left.

“ _Or does it bother you_?” Soundwave still used Optimus’s voice, slightly edited, but understandable.

Ratchet’s fuel pump thudded hard and he flushed,

“I’d rather Prime than you.”

The tentacle in Ratchet’s valve jerked and Ratchet winced.

“What other tricks have you got?”

Soundwave rumbled, it was an unnerving, mischievous sound. The tentacle inside Ratchet tickled his nub after it left him and the one gripping Ratchet’s throat like a thick collar influenced Ratchet’s position on the berth. Once Ratchet was on his back, Soundwave teetered over him. The tentacle that had made Ratchet’s valve ache replaced the one around Ratchet’s neck. Soundwave smeared Ratchet’s own fluid over his lips and Ratchet’s tongue darted out for a sample. He moaned and huffed and sampled more of his bitter taste as Soundwave took control of Ratchet’s body like a mannequin. First, Soundwave lifted Ratchet’s feet off the berth and then eased his back up. Eventually, Ratchet was nearly bent in half with his weight resting on his shoulders. Although strain pulled at Ratchet’s stomach, Soundwave supported him and would not let Ratchet fall.

A smiley face blinked across Soundwave’s visor. He loomed over Ratchet’s airborne feet with a spectre-like vigil. Ratchet has stuffed his mouth full of Soundwave’s tentacle, but paused when he saw Soundwave watching him. His cheeks were bulging.

“ _Do you like that_?” _Optimus_ asked. Soundwave withdrew his limb from Ratchet’s mouth to let Ratchet answer.

“I don’t know how you’re doing that…” he groused, somewhat discouraged. As Ratchet gazed up the length his body, he was suddenly confronted by an image of Optimus Prime and him, it was grainy and more than just an image, it was a video. A recording of him and Optimus together in the medical bay bend over a berth. The Prime’s hips were thrusting powerfully into Ratchet’s body, shunting him each time they clanged together.

Ratchet’s expression was aghast.

“You dirty ‘con! You’ve hacked our security feeds!”

“ _Is that good, **Ratchet**? Do you like that?”  _ Ratchet heard his counterpart moaning in response. In the present, Ratchet’s body shuddered with arousal, his valve feverishly protesting its emptiness. Ratchet squirmed and Soundwave took advantage of Ratchet’s needs.

He stroked his tentacle through Ratchet’s wet valve, lubricating his thin feelers well before wriggling back inside.

Ratchet’s ventilations hiccuped and his precarious balanced wobbled. Soundwave’s fingertips pressed into Ratchet’s thighs bending him further and bringing their faces closer together as Soundwave played the movie and Ratchet watched. And as he watched, Ratchet remembered. A fond sort of loneliness gripped his chest. The memory was so familiar to him, he revisited it often dreamily and, as Soundwave touched between his legs, Ratchet could focus of the footage in front of him and pretend it was Optimus’s hands teasing Ratchet until he whined instead of the less amicable intrusion of Soundwave’s tentacle.

“ _Harder, Optimus, frag me harder,_ ” Ratchet heard himself plead and Prime’s hips obligingly snapped faster into Ratchet’s onscreen. Prime had been throwing his whole weight into Ratchet, moaning loud as he did so.

“Primus _,”_ Ratchet breathed, his breath clouded Soundwave’s visor, luckily it cleared quickly. Optimus’s voice ignited Ratchet’s lust, his valve oozed and greedily squeezed against Soundwave’s tentacle inviting Soundwave to fill him as deeply as Optimus could. Ratchet begged with his body. His fascination with the film absorbed his attention and Ratchet almost behaved as if he wasn’t under another, but rather alone, witnessing himself mewling so suggestively while Prime satisfied his every need.

Soundwave watched Ratchet’s rapture through the shadows of the motion picture.

“ _Ahh, Ahh!_ ** _Ratchet!_** _So good!”_

Acting in conjunction to the scene, Soundwave pressed the hard steel rim of his tentacle against Ratchet’s body until Ratchet’s callipers yielded. Ratchet fluttered around him.

“Optimus, I”- Over Ratchet’s whimpers, Soundwave heard a hiss. A looked down at the medic’s spike growing out of his sheath, unaware that he’d accidentally robbed Ratchet of his blessed television screen.

Ratchet sealed his hands around Soundwave’s head and yanked him back, closer. Soundwave slid deeper between Ratchet’s thighs and into Ratchet’s grasp. He stayed silent as Ratchet stroked his fingers across Soundwave’s visor with the gentleness of a lover. The way Ratchet looked was more intense than Soundwave was prepared for. But it wasn’t Soundwave Ratchet was looking at when he cupped the back of Soundwave’s helm and dragged him down.

It was a senseless kiss. The static clinging to the screen irritated Ratchet’s tongue, but he couldn’t feel it, the only sensation swimming through Ratchet’s body was one of need. He hugged Soundwave closer, the tentacle in his valve twisting to satisfy the new angle.

Soundwave stiffened in Ratchet’s arms as Ratchet continued to rut and twist his hips over the tentacle. His head was full of Optimus Prime’s low, erotic huffs and grunts and the memory of how good Optimus made him ache.

“Mm. mmmh, oh,”

“ _MM mmmh ohhh, oh, uh,”_

A stream of vulgar sounds overlapped what Ratchet had been listening to. It took him a moment to understand that he was actually listening to his own voice played back to him.

Ratchet’s head hit the berth. As he caught his breath the salacious moaning stopped.

Ratchet was confronted with his own face staring down at him from Soundwave’s mask; a mirror image of how was: wanton and flustered.

“Is that how I sound?!”

_“So good! So good!”_ Optimus Prime’s voice groaned.

Ratchet bit his lip.

The image above copied him.

“Stop that!”

But Ratchet closed his eyes too soon and missed his expression souring as Soundwave’s second tentacle attempted to twist into Ratchet alongside the first. The effort failed and Ratchet was left panting and ragged.

Soundwave turned the tentacle already plunged deeply into Ratchet’s body in large circles, opening his hole large enough to frag him roughly.

Ratchet was jarred by the sensation, he could feel Soundwave’s pulse reaching inside him, holding him open and wide. One tentacle retreated and then the next slammed in and Ratchet’s valve swelled fuller. He gasped on the berth, soundless, but his body’s fans roared for relief as he clawed for purchase against Soundwave’s arms.

“ _Ratchet ohh, Ratchet!”_ Soundwave played. Ratchet cracked open his optics and was again confronted with an image. But this time, it was of his own lurid valve lips spitting lubricant as the tentacles took turns ramming into his body. Then they both pulled out and Ratchet watched in fascination as they curled around each other in a helix. Soundwave poised the tentacles on the lip of Ratchet’s trembling valve, and glanced up.

Ratchet saw a picture of himself nodded before realising what he’d consented to.

The first stroke of the tentacles was slow, Ratchet hissed as his valve adjusted and expanded to suit every warped curve slowly pumping inside of him. When they touched the back of Ratchet’s valve and it was as if the bottom had dropped out of his tanks. The intimate touch was so intense it made his breathing shudder, but the next stroke was not so patient with his body and Ratchet made strangled sounds through grit teeth as the two tentacles struck deep.

“S-Soundwave,” Ratchet gasped, his weight had fallen from his shoulders, Ratchet was now lying on the berth with his legs raised. Soundwave teetered above him, documenting Ratchet like he was an exhibition.

“ _Do you want something?”_ the sound of Optimus’s voice made Ratchet’s chest heavy.

“M-More!”  

Ratchet moaned unabashedly and one hand jerked his spike. The burgeoning energy inside him collated to the swell of force Soundwave pounded Ratchet with. Ratchet deliriously gave himself over to the feeling of the two tentacles twisted together inside of him. They drove into Ratchet’s body: in and out, in and out over and over until the ugly squelching sounds became even wetter and Ratchet burst his overload all over his stomach.

“AH!” Ratchet barked. A turbulent flux of energy rocked him to his core. His valve was too lax to squeeze around tentacles still spiralling in and out of his body. But when Ratchet collapsed on the berth, panting laboriously, Soundwave slowed his pace.

“Is that all you can handle,” Optimus’s voice, “ _Old friend._ ” Ratchet’s head snapped up, his eyes glowing savagely. Both hands reached down and Ratchet clutched his aft and spread it until he felt the mesh puckered around his valve stretch taut. It stung slightly, but the feeling was nowhere near as intense as Soundwave sliding his spike between the two tentacles holding Ratchet’s valve open.

He gaped: mouth and valve. Ratchet’s groin burned around the thickness plugging his body so tight Soundwave struggled to move. The tentacles merely twitched and Ratchet’s spike lifted again to dribble more stick perfidies over his belly.

Ratchet couldn’t feel Soundwave’s spike specifically moving inside him, but the undulation of all three appendages produced a ravishing friction and stretched Ratchet so wide his nub tingled.  

“ _So good,_ ** _uh,_** _so good! So_ ** _tight_ **_for me, Soundwave.”_

An icy fear rushed down Ratchet’s spine at the sound of Megatron’s voice. Ratchet jerked up onto his elbows. As he suspected, the voice recording had come from Soundwave, but it took a moment to expunge instinctual terror. The sound recording played again, it was improperly cut and heavily edited.

“ _Good Soundwave. G-Good - f -for me!”_ grunted Megatron, but Ratchet suspected more tampering. He watched the mech in front of him fling his head back in abandon. Soundwave’s narrow fingers were trembling around Ratchet’s thighs as he rocked himself towards bursting in Ratchet’s valve.

“You’re a good mech, Soundwave” panted Ratchet and watched Soundwave’s pace stutter, “A loyal subject. How ‘bout that huh?” Ratchet gripped Soundwave and dug his thick fingers into Soundwave’s metal possessively,  “You deserve more rewards for your services, don’t you? You’re worthy Soundwave…Megatron should be so proud.”

A harsh bleat of static, a cry of overload left Ratchet’s ears ringing.

Soundwave’s body slumped forward, and he hung his head. Static shone on his visor and the aura surrounding him trembled .

Ratchet couldn’t feel what Soundwave had spilled inside of him, but he felt it running down his aft after Soundwave slowly withdrew. The tentacles were the last to unwind from Ratchet’s body. Ratchet glanced down and, judging by the shine of lubricant and fluids glowing dimly on their pliant lengths, was surprised to see how much Soundwave had manage to coil inside his valve. The sight made Ratchet’s insides twinge, and Ratchet was a little regretful that he’d been so uncaring of the damage that might have caused.

The cables were left sagging over the berth and onto the floor, quite limp except for the occasional twitch triggered by overload’s residual energy.

Ratchet watched the mech deflate beside him, as quite as ever yet, but somehow that silence was more noticeable now. Ratchet’s lips twisted, partly genuine, but partly irked that he was experiencing sympathy for a ‘con.

Ratchet decided he could not dwell on the complications and heaved himself off the berth before the ache in his joints truly settled in and transformed Ratchet into an inert, groaning statue.

Soundwave’s visor was dim and his presence was distance, though he heard Ratchet pottering around the room, he didn’t acknowledge Ratchet until the mech appeared in front of him, crouched on the floor and holding a towel.

Ratchet took Soundwave’s tentacles in his hands one at a time and cleaned them down. They were surprisingly dense and heavy when Soundwave’s energy wasn’t aiding their movements. Neither of them spoke until Ratchet was finished. Even then it was hard to break such a morose silence because it was thick and what was happening between them was … awkward.

Ratchet sat beside Soundwave. They were close enough to feel the stroke of shared body heat, but did not touch.

“You know uh…” Ratchet stumbled, he cleared his throat and tried again, “You know you’re quite the editor. Maybe you could give me a hardcopy of what we just did?”

Soundwave twitched and brought his head to rest on Ratchet’s shoulder.

Ratchet’s posture sagged a little, but nevertheless, he reassured.

“You did good.”


End file.
